No Time For Tears
by DeMoKa
Summary: FleurHermione: even in death, Lord Voldemort can torture the poor souls that fought against him. postwar idea


**Hello all! (those who actually enjoy my fics)**

**I am back. But I really shouldn't have written another fic, but I just couldn't resist. **

**So here it goes, from a prompt from HP Fanfic 10x10, here is No Time For Tears.**

A tear rolled down her face, she hiccupped a sob. Here she was, mourning the loss of her love, her lover, her beloved. Well, the truth was that physically, Fleur was here, but mentally, she was lost. Hermione couldn't believe her ears when the healers at St Mungo's shook their heads in despair, unable to find out what had caused the memory loss. After the war, Hermione had helped find ways to cure the memory charm, however, the curse placed upon Fleur was different. No body knew the counter curse except the wizard who cast it, Lord Voldemort.

Hermione wasn't even sure why he had bothered placing a memory charm as strong as this on Fleur. What she possibly could have done to him was beyond her. Hermione was sure Voldemort knew that his time had come; he knew that Harry was coming for him. Perhaps, Voldemort had wanted to take down as many as he could or wanted to leave a reminder that he existed. Unfortunately, Fleur was the closest, but she was not the only sufferer of Voldemort's ruthless curses. Neville had tragically fallen, while Luna was now really loony, locked away in the mental ward of St Mungo's because she simply could not be trusted to not attack harmless muggles, or anyone for that matter.

So now Hermione was, caring and albeit lovingly, a constantly distraught and plagued Fleur. Fleur never fully remembered what happened, she only vaguely remembered Gabrielle. Her mother had died of heartbreak when she had asked who the old French couple were when her parents visited. Her father had merely stayed inside his mansion, never coming out into the open sun, sending money to Hermione every now and again to aid in her care for Fleur. Of course, Hermione never needed the money, but instead of rejecting it, she would place it back into the joint account she had with Mr Delacour, which they had established as a mutual fund for Fleur.

They hoped that the funds could be invested into a cure for Fleur. Hermione dreaded awaking each day, when perhaps Fleur would not even have the foggiest clue who she was. Thankfully, that had not happened yet. Sometimes Fleur would stare hard enough at Hermione during a meal and her eyes would light up, but it soon disappeared when she was distracted by a sudden movement outside. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione was silently pondering life as she watched Fleur sleep. She readied herself with a spoonful of dreamless sleep in case Fleur needed it. She sat straight, hands in her lap, not betraying any emotion. She had to keep it in; otherwise she might not stop crying.

Once, Fleur had suddenly awoken screaming and crying violently. The scene had disturbed Hermione terribly as she came rushing in that she ended up in tears, clutching Fleur in a tight hug. Both cried themselves to sleep. After that, Hermione had vowed to never become so weak to give in; she had to be strong for Fleur. The little things that happened gave Hermione the courage to smile at Fleur each day. Little things, like Fleur waking up before she did, and perhaps gave her a wake up kiss, as if they were happy as before the war. Sometimes is occurred in minor flashbacks where Fleur might suddenly ask Hermione how Harry and Ron were, or if she thought her sister might be visiting.  
What did upset Hermione was when Fleur asked after her mother. Hermione never answered properly, she always said that Mr Delacour was doing fine and then left it at that, hoping that Fleur would then forget about asking about her mother. Hermione hated to do that, but could not think of how to console her love if she were to break the news to her. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

'Ermione. Why are you sitting up so straight, mon amour?' asked Fleur, touching her hand to Hermione's cheek.  
Hermione started, 'Oh, Fleur, you're awake. How do you feel?'  
'Fine. 'Ow about you? OH! Get it away!' cried Fleur, burying her head under the covers.

Slightly alarmed, Hermione turned to the window, it was a crow; a large, black crow. Hermione growled at it and shooed it away. It cawed at her, as if mockingly, but took off quickly. Hermione rushed back to Fleur, holding her down and whispering calming ideas into her ear.  
'It's okay, it's gone. I banished it, it won't be coming back. Don't worry; I won't let it hurt you. Ssh. It's alright now Fleur,' whispered Hermione, kissing Fleur lightly.

It pained her to see her lover so fearful, so devoid of any release from her nightmares. Hermione remembered that Gabrielle mentioned that their mother would sing to them when they were little; she hummed tunelessly, hoping a little light would shine for Fleur. Fleur shifted slightly; she moaned a little, and then calmed, her breath no longer heavily laced with fear. Hermione sighed in relief, though didn't slacken her grip. Fleur reached up to touch Hermione's face.  
'Are you alright, mon ami? Did I scare you again?' inquired Fleur, seeming to have forgotten her fear of a minute ago.

'No, my love. I am just being silly,' replied Hermione breathlessly.

Fleur gave her a disapproving look, 'Do not lie, I know when you do.'  
Hermione chuckled slightly despite herself, even with such a broken and scattered mind, Fleur knew her well.  
'You're right. I shouldn't lie to you. I'm worried about you,' admitted Hermione.

Fleur caressed her face and kissed her gently, 'Don't be, I am fine. I am, 'owever, some what peckish.'   
'Oh, je suis desolee. Let's have lunch now,' apologised Hermione.

They walked to the kitchen slowly. Hermione checked Fleur with quick glances, ready to calm any more sudden frights. They managed to have pasta and soup without any difficulty. Despite the healers' warnings, Hermione declined their offer of more potions. She coaxed Fleur to have only the very necessary ones, that kept her placid around other people, but other than that, Hermione would not allow her love to be drugged. She had snapped at the healers angrily when they suggested Fleur to be taking several potions everyday for the rest of her life. Hermione was horrified at the idea and had apparated them straight home after her furious reply which consisted of cursing in various tongues.

Fleur cocked her head, 'Ermione, you 'ave soup on your cheek.'  
Now, Hermione knew she didn't but played along, 'Really? What are you going to do about it?'  
Fleur smiled at her slyly, leaning forwards and licking it off, 'Mm, you always taste so good.'  
Hermione kissed her in reply and soon both were releasing pent up sexual tension. Hermione had been avoiding much passion, of fear of any possible problems triggering Fleur's torrid memories. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

'I wonder, should we close the blinds?' murmured Fleur.

Hermione sat up in shock, 'WHAT!'  
Fleur laughed, 'Je suis desolee, I am joking!'  
Stark naked and furiously blushing, Hermione lay back down next to Fleur on their couch.  
'We'd better get dressed again, I don't want you catching a cold,' muttered Hermione, kissing Fleur lightly.

Fleur rolled her eyes but followed Hermione to their bedroom. Hermione touched Fleur's shoulder as she was putting on a blouse.  
'Oui?' questioned Fleur.

Hermione held her close, a tear dropping from her left eye, 'Je t'aime.'  
Fleur hugged her back and kissed her neck and cheeks, 'Me too. Je t'aime.'  
'Don't ever leave me,' whispered Hermione, sobbing again slightly.

Fleur shook her head, 'Never.'  
Hermione sighed in contentment, but was soon clutching Fleur again as she became rigid and cried out. They fell to their knees together. Fleur screamed again, shouting at Voldemort to leave her in peace, to leave her Hermione alone; and Hermione knew that it was no time for tears.

**THE END**

**Well? That was shorter than I'd like, but that's how it finished. I couldn't write anymore, I was getting depressed from it. **


End file.
